Unseen Stars
by Trefoil-underscore
Summary: Bonus chapter to The Mark, in which Arix's friends come together to help him when he shows up again in town covered with weird injuries after a long absence. Or, that random piece which doesn't have Steve and barely has Arix, which I wanted to write anyway. Not a heck of a lot of Minecraft-related stuff, mainly it's stuff dealing with my specific AU.


"The hell is that racket?" Khau looked up at his friend's outburst and noticed a man balanced on the base of a lamppost, expounding over the heads of passersby and a few who had gathered to listen. "Bullshit," mumbled Sigi, and Khau gave a wry smile of agreement and prepared to walk on. But Sigi was listening, nose wrinkled in distaste.  
"Have you noticed how the void-eyed act? Huh? How they cringe in the daylight, can't see as well as we can? They can't walk in the daylight, they hide in the shadows like monsters! It's because they are. They're not human!"  
"Bullshit," said Sigi louder. The speaker gave him an angry glance, but kept expounding. Khau sighed. Sigi was going to start something. He might as well brace himself and hang on for the ride. It was sure to be interesting, at least. "Who's paying you?"  
"What? Get out," said the speaker.  
"I'm serious. Nobody comes up with this stuff unless they're being paid for it."  
"Void-eyes are a menace!"  
"Right. How nasty of them to have been born defective. Clearly the scum of the earth. Who're you going to start picking on next? Mages?" he raised his staff, and streaks of lightning traced, snapping, over the heads of the crowd, which scattered quickly. Nobody liked an angry mage. The speaker jumped down.  
"You think you're so smart—"  
"I do," said Sigi, pointing the staff. "Scram."  
He obliged.  
"Well, that'll be something to mention, at any rate," said Khau as they walked on. Sigi looked proud of himself. "I can't say I disapprove, but you should learn to keep your peace. You can't afford to go around shooting magic at everything that displeases you. I know it may seem like you can at first, but you really can't."  
"I know, I know. A huge waste of finite energy. Worth it though."  
Khau smiled. "I imagine you'll brag about it to the others."  
"Naturally."  
Several of the younger mages shared a house in one of the nicer neighborhoods, which had become the unofficial mage clubhouse. Ordinary objects occasionally combusted into flame for obscure reasons and silverfish had a tendency to drop out of the ceilings onto unsuspecting heads, and of course there was the occasional unstable darkmancer going on a rampage and needing to be stunned repeatedly and chained into a bed until they could regain control, but otherwise it was a pleasant enough place, despite the fact that the houses on either side of it were mysteriously vacant. The unusually high mob spawns in the vicinity of the house may have disturbed the children, but it was of course unintentional. Sigi was staying, or more accurately hiding, there in the aftermath of frying a rich man's dog after it took a piece out of his trousers. The occasional person, who was either unusually stupid or knowledgeable, might antagonize a lone mage, but nobody bothered mages in bulk.  
As they approached the house they noticed a man clinging to the outside of the courtyard gate, shouting at someone inside. He was a Testificate, tall and pale, with a flat nose and green eyes, and he was wearing the long red robes of a priest. Sigi glowered and raised his staff. Khau grabbed and lowered it.  
"Hey. You're too smart to burn yourself out. Besides, I know this guy, he's alright."  
"Then why is he besieging our front gate?"  
"I don't know, but he's not one of the annoying ones. He's a Solist."  
"He is? Then why's he look like one of the other ones? And wait a minute, aren't they all dead?"  
"Those questions answer each other. He's the last one. Red?" The priest, noticing them, jumped down.  
"Khau! Thank goodness I've been looking for you."  
"I imagine you have been, as you don't often come this way. What's wrong?"  
He was not, as Sigi now noticed, completely bald. Priests of Notch shaved their heads. As an apparently pure-blooded Testificate Red had thin, light-colored hair, and it was very short, but he wasn't shaved, and his robes were a dull shade of the standard red with lots of handy pockets.  
"Arix is back," said Red.  
"Is he alright?"  
"Not really." Khau unlocked the gate with a word and pulled him inside. Sigi followed.  
"Oh, so you really do know this guy," said the mage Red had been shouting at, who was lounging in a wicker chair. "See I thought—" Khau ignored him, towing Red indoors and through the middle of a conversation about the ethics of summoning zombies to consume your enemies. The mages came from every class of society, with only two constant characteristics: they carried a staff, and were tattooed, some more heavily than others, Khau one of the most heavily of all, with the barbed patterns extending over his bald scalp.  
"Hey, who's—"  
"Khau, where are you—"  
Khau reached his room. "What's wrong?"  
"Just about everything. He's stable at the moment, I think, he just needs to rest, but he can't. He's very—twitchy."  
"What happened?" Red sighed, at a loss.  
"That's a long story. He was trapped in a cave for a while."  
"Oh no. That would mess anyone up."  
"Who's Arix?" said Sigi.  
"You know Arix! The scavenger? His horse bit you in the leg once?"  
"Why does everything want to bite me? I must taste good."  
"Arix lived here for a while, but he preferred having his own space, and he guessed that other people were more in need of his room."  
"Oh that guy! Yeah! Lanky, long hair, bit of a pyromaniac but terrible at starting fires? You said he went missing, right?" Khau was rifling through a chest in the corner of the room.  
"He did. Where is he now?"  
"In my room," said Red.  
"You came all the way across town to find me?"  
"I think you can help."  
"I can try. I'd come see him regardless. It's odd that he wouldn't tell us he was back."  
"He's not in very good shape. He found me first because he had something he wanted to tell me, then he collapsed."  
"Exactly how bad is it?"  
"He's missing most of his right arm and you'd be hard pressed to find a square inch of skin that's not scratched or bruised. He's taken it all surprisingly well."  
"Good God. Well, that's Arix for you." Khau stuffed some herbs into a satchel and slung it on his back. He was an amateur healer and completely inverted most of the mage stereotypes. He was calm, rational, kind and generous. Mages were supposed to be reckless and ruthless. Then again, priests, or at least the Priests of Notch, were supposed to be pompous and hypocritical. "Let's go."  
"You're going now?" Said Sigi. Zombies prowled at night, even in the city.  
"Of course I'm going now." Khau stepped out into the hallway and closed the door after Sigi and Red had followed. He turned, and found his path blocked by another mage, Frost. "Excuse us."  
"What is he doing here?" said Frost, glaring at Red.  
"He's my guest."  
"Get him out of here."  
"Since when do you give orders to me?"  
"We were just leaving," said Red.  
"You'd better be," said Frost, turning to go. He crashed into Trillium, a female mage who came running down the hall.  
"Red!" she said. "Good to see you again. I asked you to come back, remember?"  
Red was momentarily speechless. "I thought you were just being polite."  
"Pfff. Who cares about politeness? Not me."  
"You know this guy too?" said Frost, immobilized by the strangeness of it all.  
"Oh sure! He stayed here with Arix for a few days. That was before your time. The Empire doesn't like him much, I expect you've been hiding out? But you should have come back to visit!"  
"I'm sorry now that I didn't."  
"Who the hell is Arix?" said Frost.  
"How about you just leave now," said Khau, motioning with his eyes in the direction of the door. Another mage poked his head into the hallway behind them.  
"Did someone say Arix? He still owes me a meal."  
"Have you seen him?" Trillium asked Red. "He's been gone for longer than usual."  
"I did, just this afternoon. He's badly hurt but I think he'll be alright."  
"Oh no!"  
The other mage stepped out. "What? How badly hurt? Hey Wulf! Get out here!"

Khau convinced the small crowd which soon gathered that Arix would only be further traumatized by a sudden stampede of people in his room, and left alone with Red. Frost was lurking in a corner of the courtyard, talking to the mage who had denied Red entrance, as they left. "Sorry about him," said Khau. Red shook his head.  
"There's one everywhere."

Two men were sitting on the curb playing cards as they came out. The shorter-haired one nudged the other, who shook his bangs out of his eyes to look up.  
"That them?"  
"Mm-hm."  
They quietly gathered up the cards and set off after the mage and the priest.

Red beat the zombie backwards with swift flicks of staff and Khau caught it on his knife. He was trying to conserve magic, he said. They might be doing better if they hadn't been attempting a shortcut through a badly lit area. "I might think you were a mage, from a distance."  
"What?"  
"The staff."  
"Oh." Red looked at it. It was plain, heavy, and covered with dark stains, dents and teeth marks. "Maybe from a distance."  
"I'd think a sword would be more effective."  
"It would. I took a vow not to carry bladed weapons."  
"That makes no sense."  
"Pacifism generally doesn't."  
"For zombies, no."  
"It was specifically not to spill human blood. I think you can tell I don't—" he stabbed at the neck of a zombie which had leapt at him from an alley— "mind killing zombies."  
"I still don't get it."  
"It also strengthens the divide between priests and warriors—or mages. I'm supposed to trust in the mercy of God and not my skill with a blade. Skill as a fighter encourages pride, also, and can be a distraction."  
"I still don't get it but alright. Is this a Solist thing?"  
"No. Well, yes, but it's optional."  
"I don't think the Church of Notch has it." Red shrugged. "They even allow priest-mages in some cases, don't they?"  
"In some circles. There's been a bit of controversy about that."  
"The Church of Ithaka was Solist, wasn't it?"  
"Yes. Guess that makes me a rebel."  
"You seem to have a talent for picking the wrong side of a fight."  
"We don't pick sides. The Empire does."  
"You resisted the Purge."  
"Should we have not?"  
"You wouldn't be the last of your kind if you had simply kept your mouths shut." Red was silent. "Why don't you go join the rebels?"  
"The problem with that is nobody knows where they are," said Kikoskia, striding up. He made no effort to hide his accent. It was faint, but distinctively of Ithaka.  
"Kiko, right? I met you earlier," said Red.  
"You did. I followed you—sorry about that. Wanted to check on how Arix is doing, but I thought it'd be best not to bother him directly."  
"He's alright."  
"He's not alright," said Khau.  
"Well, he's not about to die, but he's not easy yet either."  
"Poor guy. This is Rufert, by the way. Rufert?" Kikoskia looked around for his companion and found him on top of a nearby shed, hacking up a small zombie.  
"Oi!" He moved towards the edge of the shed, lost his balance, and tumbled to the ground. Then he picked himself up and walked over to the group, peering at them from under long, light blond bangs. The half-hidden eyes looked very dark. "So you're Red and you're a cow. I like cows."  
"It's Khau."  
"Oh. You're very chill for a mage. This is good." His accent was thick and unusual, a mixture of Ithaka and Provincial. He wore the cheap black leather armor of the Guard.  
"Rufert wanted to come along," said Kikoskia. "I talked to him and he's curious."  
"Also I can kill things," said Rufert.  
"Right," said Kikoskia. "We thought we'd escort you."  
"That's nice. Thank you," said Red. They kept walking, and their new companions fell into step, ranged out beside them. Kikoskia carried a short bow with an arrow on the string. He was ragged, another scavenger who knew Arix slightly from a shared profession, with a perky, intelligent look. Rufert almost certainly had void eyes. Red wondered how he had survived the Purge. Perhaps that was why he had come. Arix, now a revenant, was an outsider too. That was another thing.  
"He's a revenant."  
"What?"  
"Arix. He must've been bitten while he was out there."  
"Is he corrupted?"  
"No. He's stable, as I said. But one eye is darkened and I think it'll stay that way."  
Khau shook his head. "Anything else you haven't told me?"  
Just the confusing bits. Red himself still wasn't sure what had happened. Arix hadn't been at his best when he told his story. "About his injuries? Not that I know of."  
"Sound like bad shit," commented Rufert. "You men got plans to help him?"  
"I hope so," said Khau. "How do you know him?"  
"Fellow scavenger," said Kikoskia.  
"I'm just here to kill things," said Rufert. "Ooh, zombles." He impaled an interruption before it could reach Khau.  
"You're doing an excellent job," said Khau.

Half an hour later, Terry, a junior priest, burst into the kitchen where Hon. Greg was pouring himself a glass of milk. "Father! Red's back and he's got a mage with him!"  
"Oh. Yes, he said he was bringing one. Ask if they'd like some tea."  
"And that's not all, there's two darks, a Guardsman and some sort of homeless felon with a bow!"  
"No offensive language, please." Hon. Greg smiled. "And did the archer say he was a homeless felon? I'd be more inclined to think he was a scavenger who knows Arix."  
"That's another thing, what is Arix doing here?"  
"He saved Red's life, he's hurt and he doesn't have anywhere else to stay. Would you prefer me to throw him out? Now, where are these friendly felons?"  
"Outside the front gate."  
"Terry! You didn't let them in?"

"Well this is nice," said Red, rattling the gate. "I left my keys in my room."  
"Like you said: there's one everywhere," said Khau, winking. Rufert and Kikoskia were having an argument on the opposite side of the gate arch.  
"I can probably climb over the wall here where the vines are if Kiko will—"  
"Rufert, no."  
"Rufert yes?"  
"Rufert no."  
"I can get the gate open!"  
"We may need to try that in a moment," said Red, "If—no, we're alright." A door slammed in the courtyard and Hon. Greg appeared.  
"Red! And—the rest of you! Come in, I'm sorry about Terry. He's still learning. And I don't think he was expecting such a big party." They streamed into the courtyard and Red briefly made introductions.  
"We'll stay out here, it that's alright," said Kikoskia, holding Rufert back. "Don't want to smother the fellow. Just tell us how he's doing."  
"Good idea, I will."  
"If you can handle this," said Hon. Greg in the hallway, stretching, "I think I'll go to bed." As he left, Terry briefly appeared, gave Khau a terrified look, and dove into another room, slamming the door behind him.  
"Hey Terry," called Red. "Come meet our guest." No response. "Rude." He led Khau up the stairs to his room and knocked quietly. When there was no response he let himself in.  
Arix was crouched in the corner with the lamp close by, his eyes glittering in the light. His left eye was a muddy color. He held his arm folded across his chest.  
"Hello," said Khau, walking softly across the room and kneeling in front of him. After a moment Arix looked up. His eyes were hollow.  
"Khau?"  
"How are you?"  
"What are you doing here?"  
"Red came and got me." Arix glanced at Red, then back at Khau. "Come lie down, I want to look at you." Arix made no movement, but rose when Khau pulled him gently by the arm. He was wearing a set of clothes belonging to Red which were slightly too big for him. Khau coaxed him onto the bed and gave him a quick examination, eyes darkening as he saw the eviscerated tattoos on his chest and arms. "Who did this?" Arix said nothing.  
"He said he did it to himself."  
"I don't believe that, and someone needs to die." Khau unwrapped the bandage on Arix's forearm, and Red leaned in curiously—Arix had been reluctant to let him touch it before. The bandage fell away, displaying a severe burn in the place where the mark of Azathoth had once been. Khau stared, then began to re-bandage it. His hands seemed unsteady. "No. He didn't do this. He couldn't have. And when I find out who I need to kill…" he steadied himself. Arix was trembling slightly. He helped him back into his shirt and put an arm around his shoulders. "Just relax, now. You need to sleep."  
"Can't," said Arix hoarsely.  
"Yes you can. Nothing is going to happen now. You're safe." Arix looked towards the window. Khau cupped his head in his hand, then began to stroke his hair, speaking soothingly to him. Half an hour later he was still doing it. Arix was still awake and very tense. "I don't know why he's fighting me," said Khau softly, glancing at Red. Red, sitting at his desk with a book, shrugged.

Some time later Arix relaxed into Khau's arms and he carefully laid him down on the pillows and stepped back. Red came and felt Arix's pulse. It was slow and steady. They stood looking down at him. He breathed deeply, hair tangled on the pillow under his head, chin unshaved. Khau sighed. "He should sleep for several hours at least. Hopefully he'll feel better when he wakes. A little sleep can help a lot."  
Red pulled the chair out from his desk and guided Khau to it. "Now you look tired."  
"I am." He rested his head in his hands, looking down at the scratches visible across Arix's chest. "I can't believe someone would do this." Red knelt on the floor next to him.  
"Would you like some tea?"  
"No. I have to get home." He stood reluctantly. "Thank you for telling me."  
"It was for a friend. Thank you for coming."  
Khau smiled. "Of course. He's a friend." He extended his hand and Red took it.  
"Let me walk you home."  
"No, I'll be alright. I'll keep to the main streets this time, there's no hurry."  
"You're exhausted."  
Khau shook his head. "You should stay. In case he wakes up."  
Red looked at Arix. Then his face brightened. "Oh. I've got an idea. Terry has no obligation to stay away from bladed weapons. He's quite good with a sword, actually."  
Khau smiled. "Leave the man alone."  
"Why? It's a chance to grow in humility, and show love for your fellow man. No good priest would deny his fellow a chance like that."  
"I don't think he's interested."  
"Might as well ask. Besides, he thinks he owes me a favor."  
"He _thinks_ he does?"  
"He thinks I did him a favor not telling Hon. Greg that he was out late a few weeks ago. Hon. Greg saw him come in though, so I didn't need to. He didn't make a big deal out of it, so Terry didn't realize he knew."  
"Ah."  
"Let's find this swashbuckling youngster."

Terry was in the kitchen, crouching in front of the window to the courtyard. "Ah, there you are." He jumped up with a gasp. "I have to stay here, would you mind walking Khau home? It's dark and monster-y out there and he's very tired."  
"What!" Terry gaped at them.  
"You're already wearing your sword," Red pointed out.  
"I don't... no. No, I'm not leaving."  
"That's not very gracious. It's your duty to treat all guests with hospitality."  
"He's not my guest, he's your guest!"  
"Now that sounds downright childish."  
"I promise I won't hex you," said Khau with a dry, tired smile.  
"At least I ask permission when I leave at night," said Red. "Come on, Terry. He doesn't bite." Terry flinched.  
"I…"  
"He might even pay you."  
"Wha—no no! He doesn't need—I mean, I'm still not, but if—it's not actually—" Red kept looking blandly at Terry until he trailed off. "Alright, fine. When are we leaving?"

Red felt a distinctly unholy sense of glee as he watched Terry patter nervously off into the damp night, looking over his shoulder at Khau and into the shadows for zombies. Well, he hadn't done any harm that he could tell. He put the teapot on the stove and paused, hearing voices. He looked down. The window was half-raised, but the curtain was down. Had Terry been eavesdropping? He swept the curtain up with a sigh. Outside, a light rain was falling. Rufert and Kikoskia were standing close together against the wall, Rufert with his arms folded tightly around him, Kikoskia with his hood up.  
"Don't trust that man," said Rufert.  
"He'll pay you back," said Kikoskia. "You trusted him enough when he was in jail."  
"Yah he hadn't done anything then."  
"….except land in jail."  
"Oh anyone can do that. The shitter hasn't paid me back in months." The Guardsmen were widely distrusted, as they had the unfortunate habit of becoming unstable after years of hunting zombies through the sewers and alleys. They were also poorly paid and, stereotypically, amoral lowlifes. This stereotype tended to compound itself, as they were, because of it, arrested for any pretense, and quite regularly deserved it. "You nearly been in jail, haven't you?"  
"Of course I have, I sound like a rebel."  
"Eh. People are dumb. How'd you miss the ships, anyway?"  
"I was with some friends on one of the tide islands. None of us were watching the sea and nobody had time to come warn us."  
"Oh. Where'd they get to?"  
"They caught up to the ships. Wherever the rest of Ithaka is now, they're with them."  
"And you?"  
Kikoskia laughed. "What do you think, Rufert? I got lost. Just like I always do."  
"Oh. Shit luck man."  
"Met you though, and the rest of the 6th. It's not all that terrible here."  
"Aww. You're making me blush." Red smiled, raised the window the rest of the way and stuck his head out into the rain. The two looked at him.  
"Hey, it's getting wet out there. I was just making tea. Come on in." they looked at each other, surprised.  
"Thank yoo," said Rufert after a moment, evidently deciding that the lure of the firelight was too strong to be denied. Kikoskia echoed him.  
"He's sleeping now," said Red, slicing them each a piece of bread and putting a jug of thick yellow butter on the table. "I'll tell him you were here when he wakes up. Khau thinks he'll feel better in the morning."  
"Good," said Kikoskia. Rufert silently tucked into his bread and butter with the eagerness of a man who is used to living hand to mouth. At a pointed glance from Kikoskia, he sat up straight and chewed more slowly. Red cut him another slice of bread and pushed the butter closer to him.  
"Eat all of that if you like, we've got more." Rufert looked lovingly at the butter, but restrained himself. There was, in fact, a full half inch in the bottom of the jar when they left later. "Would you like some bacon?"  
"Bacon? Ye—only if you're having some. Please."

Arix was still asleep when Red went back to his room. His brow was slightly drawn, as if even now he couldn't escape a feeling of danger. He was very thin. He'd never been good at putting on weight, but he did make a point of spending a large amount of his time in the city stuffing himself, since he never knew when he'd next run out of food or have to rely on the least appetizing (and nourishing) sort of provisions. Whatever padding he'd managed to amass before his last trip had been completely eliminated. It would be a long time before he felt strong again. Red unrolled his pallet, but didn't think he would be able to sleep yet. He went out into the courtyard and looked up into the sky, hazy around the edges with smog and light, smudged with silvery cloud. Were there any stars? He searched hard before he found one bright enough to be seen with the naked eye. Stars were beautiful, but not many people cared to look at them. They hid in the night. Red wondered if Arix could see more stars than he could now, with his darkened eye. He'd heard of that sort of thing. Red knew there was very little in the world that was all bad. Mindless forces—the corruption, the purge, a fire. But none of those had overthrown a world yet. There was a simple, resilient strength in the things that willed to keep living. As for the stars, he didn't know enough about them to make any presumptions. Some said they were lamps hung by Jeb so they wouldn't be lonely in the night. It was a nice story, although he didn't believe it. Another idea was that they were other worlds floating through a void, but that theory still needed work. Whatever they were, the wandering lights, they had their own order, erratic and incomprehensible, but in the terms of the cosmos never wavering. It made him feel very small, but somehow, very calm. He wondered if someone else were standing under a different pattern of stars, looking down towards where he was. Perhaps, somewhere out there, was a world that hadn't been touched by corruption. But in the span of the night sky, even the corruption seemed small and insignificant. He turned and went inside. The kitchen smelled pleasantly of bacon and tea. He went upstairs to where Arix was still sleeping. In a few hours, the sun would be coming up. He closed his eyes.

 **A/N: So, this thingummy that I said I'd do is done. Thanks to Itinerant Reader for beta reading for me, I think it was a first time experience for each of us. They weren't very mean about it though. Their review was basically "this story is great and here's why I like it! Also there was one typo and these sentences didn't make much sense. But it was great!" Which was great though, because I wasn't sure if I should publish it, so it made me feel much better.  
One thing she noticed. Kikoskia has an accent from an island nation. I was indeed having fun with that. Heheh. Heh. I will have even more fun with that in future. (Kiko and Rufert have counterparts in the real world who are YouTube LPers. And who have nothing at all to do with these two characters and do not know *hopefully* that they exist.)  
I feel like I should confess that this story/bonus chapter/oneshot/thingy-thing only exists because I had a picture in my head of several of my OCs, people who wouldn't usually hang out together, walking slowly down a dark zombie-filled street spread out in a line like summer action hero movie leads, and I wanted to write about them coming together and stuff. **


End file.
